Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

4997

Abstract

a good answer and then she started yelling more. My Mother got into a verbal altercation and was backed up by a woman named Colleen Sullivan who explained she was there because she needed to protect her disabled son and his need for health care. Every time my Mother speaks of Colleen, she gets a little teary eyed imagining how tough it is for her to have a disabled child and how scared she must be for his future and the future of his care. I watched Colleen Sullivan after that coffee talk, grow from a concerned mother to an elected official. She ended up winning a seat on her city council, in Jackson Michigan. Health care concerns for her son gave birth to a political leader. The rise of the woman has been extensively discussed in the media. But much of the Resistance is also the rise of the Mother.When I asked Colleen to discuss her shift from mom to politician, she explained that she’d always stood up to injustice. Colleen recalled at seven or eight, realizing just how unjust the world was when a country club near her home refused to let Black people join. As a teen and young woman she was active in numerous political and social justice campaigns. When she became a mother her political activity gained more focus. “I saw it through the lense of changing my child’s future.” When she learned he had special needs, her willingness to fight became more critical. Her son was denied therapy (speech, occupational, and physical) he needed, justified by the fact that he has two developmental disabilities and therefore won’t make progress. Colleen fought to get the Autism program in Jackson up and running.“I didn’t think I was being political anymore because the struggles were not optional. I was advocating for the most important person in my life. It was like breathing.”While Colleen’s position doesn’t afford her decision making power on education, healthcare or things she’s been fighting for all along, it does put her exactly where she needs to be for her community. Her goal is to strengthen the neighborhood through communication and participation. Last week, Jackson was hit by a tornado. Colleen walked the area to assess the damage and make sure the people in her neighborhood were okay. She posted on social media asking for someone with a chainsaw to help an elderly person with a tree down. Her feed soon filled with people thanking her for her help and concern. Colleen wasn’t there for a photo op. She didn’t even post pictures or tell anyone she was doing it (aside from a public request for help.) She simply did her job the same way she approaches motherhood; get what needs to be done, done without fanfare. She’s a mom, that’s what we do.The Resistance is called snowflakes by the right. As if to say we are delicate and temporary. I think what the right claims is delicate is more quiet compassion. I don’t need to wave a gun or thump my chest, but I am not backing down. I don’t need to confront you and have a fight. I am putting my feet on the ground and I am marking my ballot. I don’t need to respond to any of your misinformation. My lack of response does not mean I am weak, it does not mean I am giving up and it does not mean because you are threatening you are going to win. I will ignore your red faced shouting and I will do my damage by not shopping at your store and by voting you out of office. I will march. I will protest and I will call. Every. Single. Elected. Official. My strength is in the compassion I feel as a woman and a mother. It is in the fact that through motherhood, I’ve learned endurance via sleepless nights, losing battles with irrational toddlers, rude comments from angry teens, cleaning up messes I shouldn’t have to clean up and never, ever quitting. While the right flops on the ground like a screaming toddler, I am putting my purse on my shoulder, grabbing you by the arm and hissing, “you just wait until we get home,” in your ear.I haven’t knocked on doors for a campaign since college. But the more I saw people shouting their views on social media, the less effective I felt it was. I wanted to help create change, not from behind a screen, but on the front lines in every way I could. I attended the Women’s March in Ann Arbor with my family, even as I saw people threatening our safety. I was not afraid, I was steadfast. I faced down bought and sold Tim Walberg and booed his crappy rhetoric. I mostly kept my political views off of Facebook, until I had to speak up for children torn from their parents. I am a Mother. Any child who cries for their Mother breaks my heart. Still, I wanted more. So, when I saw a familiar name running for State Rep in my district, I went out to meet her. Terri McKinnon, the online presence I respected so much for organizing for Planned Parenthood, was running as a Democrat in Michigan’s 65th district. I sat down at an event she had at a local coffee shop and learned more about what

Options

she thought was important to the state and what she was learning on the campaign trail.She is 100% grassroots and isn’t taking campaign money from lobbies. Her opponent is. I received a mailer on her behalf from the energy lobby. Hmmm, maybe that’s why my bill jumped up so much this year; so they could buy mailers for her and help her be their voice box? The people Terri has knocking on your doors are unpaid volunteers and her election material is funded by everyday people tired of their voices taking a backseat to politicians indebted to big money lobbies. The only voice box Terri has to be is yours and mine. As Terri explained, “… I’m not a politician but a mom and concerned citizen who is trying to bring that voice to Lansing for the people who can’t afford their own lobbyist. I believe in the power of people’s voices joined together.”The political term, “voice of the people,” is so overused, it’s cliche. Especially when it comes out of the mouth of a man in a suit who owns three vacation homes and a few race horses. But Terri is the people. When she found herself suddenly divorced with children, she had to find a way to put herself through school and survive. Her aspirations were simply to provide a good life for herself and her children. She never dreamed she’d be running for office one day. Rather than the polished smooth talker who’s been prepping for a career in politics his whole life, she’s been working and raising kids.I knew I wanted to be a part of government for the people by the people, so I signed up to volunteer. Yesterday was blistering hot in Michigan and the humidity made the air feel thick and heavy. Terri agreed to meet up with me and knock on doors in my town. She campaigned in a different town first. She arrived looking tired and hot at 4 pm and I invited her in to cool off, take a rest, and get hydrated before hitting the campaign trail. I wanted to know more about her. Specifically, I wanted to know more about her shift from activist to politician. Though, I felt like I knew at least a little about her as soon as she got out of the van.She sent the man driving the van home. He kept asking if she needed anything else and if she was sure. “He’s dying,” she said sadly, “He has terminal cancer, but he wants to do as much as he can while he can.” She shook her head. I knew what she was thinking. Even though she desperately needs the help, she can’t let him push himself too hard. He wants to. But Terri tells him he’s done enough and to get home and take care of himself.Terri sat on my couch and said she’s always been an activist but never imagined she’d turn into a politician. Like myself and Colleen, when the things she held dear were at risk, her activism ramped up. She took it upon herself to organize for Planned Parenthood and her work was noticed. Several groups approached her and asked her to run against Tim Walberg in the 7th District. She didn’t feel ready. She wanted more political experience before making the leap to Washington. At the state level she will have an impact on how the block grants for health care are dispersed, our horrible roads, education, and in the event Roe V Wade is overturned, making sure the archaic law on abortion in Michigan is also overturned. Young women certainly don’t need to go back to the days of kitchen table abortions in Detroit, which was my Mother’s option.I was nervous going door to door in such a small right leaning town. I trailed Terri on a few, just to see how she did it and see how people responded. Terri introduced herself, let the person know she was running and gave a brief overview of her concerns. She ended by asking each person at each door for their concerns. Every time a woman opened the door the response was the same; education. One woman confided she was not normally a Democrat and would not normally vote for Terri. She elaborated that she had been a teacher, a principal and her sons were teachers. She had to put people in office who would stop Trump’s education policy. She believes our teachers and students deserve better and to make sure it happens she is willing to cross party lines.The Resistance is gathering momentum from people feeling the sting, whether in their own family or by virtue of empathy, of a Trump-lead nation. The women taking leadership roles have, in many cases, quietly lead households in very difficult situations. They don’t know glory or big paychecks, but they do know how to clean up messes and continue, no matter how tired, every day. They are women like Terri and Colleen, taking the ability to withstand lives filled with obstacles and succeed. Their strength isn’t rooted in brute physicality. It’s in their ability to endure, and fight for that which is important to those they will represent, which is what they’ve been doing all their adult lives, as mothers.</article></body>

Your Mom is Leading the Resistance

My Mother will turn 70 in 2019. She witnessed Vietnam War protests, the Civil Rights Movement, and had already given birth to her first two children when Roe V Wade was decided. She was not an active participant but a witness who believed in it all. In 1989, when women marched on Washington to support and defend Roe V Wade against a hostile White House and unpredictable Supreme Court, my Mom and I watched together.

Watching the march with my Mom, I understood, intrinsically how important the right to choose was to her. I recall her explaining why the women were carrying signs decorated with hangers and it took my breath away. I still lose my breath with horror when I think about it. My mother went on to explain that women still had abortions before Roe V Wade. Wealthier women traveled to states where it was legal and safe while poor women took their chances with hangers, and worse. She told me that when she became pregnant with my brother, her first child, she was given the name of a place she could go in Detroit. But abortion, legal or illegal, wasn’t her choice.

My views were further solidified when I became pregnant with my son. I was 20, in college, and unmarried. I knew I could have an abortion. I knew I could obtain one safely and legally, but I also knew I didn’t have to. My parents would support whatever decision I made and I decided I wanted both my child and my education. Marriage, not so much. Traversing the campus of one of the top public universities in the country with a stroller was eye opening. The number of intelligent upper middle class women who confessed their abortions to me was shocking. The reason was always the same, fear of their ability to survive financially with a child and fear of the shame and stigma that comes with having a child, but no husband. I knew that making abortions illegal would not prevent abortions, but making it feasible to obtain an education while financially and emotionally supporting a child would certainly help to make them less frequently sought.

I thought the pro-life people were doing it wrong. But then again, they were the same people who shamed me for having my son, young and unmarried. I felt their judgement everyday: welfare momma, whore, trash. I fought hard on my campus to make it a more accessible place for student parents, because choice is about the freedom to make a choice, not HAVING to do one thing or another.

After college, my activism died off with the demands of raising a family. Life, as it does, got in the way. I voted. I, like my Mother, watched people protest but never got involved as I raised my children. Never did I expect to see Trump elected. I was suddenly thrust into a role I never believed would be necessary. I thought I answered my call to activism in college, I was done. The baby boy I gave birth to while a student at the University of Michigan was now a student at the University of Michigan, and I was suddenly as politically active and charged as him, if not more. Through social media, I was able to connect with like minded people where I live, which was refreshing. I am a speck of blue in a red area.

I “met”Terri Mckinnon through social media after Trump was elected. She is a 51 year-old mother of three and she was organizing rallies to defend Planned Parenthood. She stood out as a strong leader and organizer and I appreciated her hard work. Planned Parenthood helped me when i needed it most, to obtain low cost exams and birth control so I could focus on raising my son and finishing school. I didn’t have health insurance and wasn’t ready to take on two babies. I didn’t want to be in a position of having to choose between raising another baby and financial stability. The burden was too much. Planned Parenthood helped me prevent an abortion by making health care accessible. When Trump was elected, my daughter was a toddler barely able to speak. I wanted to make sure she had the same access and autonomy over her own body that I did. I thought Terri’s work was invaluable and I respected her as a leader.

I met a large number of the women I knew online in person at a coffee talk with our Congressional rep, Tim Walberg. I brought my Mom with me. He holds his position via strong gerrymandering, and is a Koch brothers cronie. My Mother sat behind a very large woman wearing a housecoat. The woman was calling us baby killers and shouted that the best way to deal with the Mexicans was to shoot them all. I don’t think she understood how hypocritical it was until my Mother shouted, “you want to save unborn babies and kill them once they’re out?” Her mouth flapped open and shut without a good answer and then she started yelling more. My Mother got into a verbal altercation and was backed up by a woman named Colleen Sullivan who explained she was there because she needed to protect her disabled son and his need for health care. Every time my Mother speaks of Colleen, she gets a little teary eyed imagining how tough it is for her to have a disabled child and how scared she must be for his future and the future of his care. I watched Colleen Sullivan after that coffee talk, grow from a concerned mother to an elected official. She ended up winning a seat on her city council, in Jackson Michigan. Health care concerns for her son gave birth to a political leader. The rise of the woman has been extensively discussed in the media. But much of the Resistance is also the rise of the Mother.

When I asked Colleen to discuss her shift from mom to politician, she explained that she’d always stood up to injustice. Colleen recalled at seven or eight, realizing just how unjust the world was when a country club near her home refused to let Black people join. As a teen and young woman she was active in numerous political and social justice campaigns. When she became a mother her political activity gained more focus. “I saw it through the lense of changing my child’s future.” When she learned he had special needs, her willingness to fight became more critical. Her son was denied therapy (speech, occupational, and physical) he needed, justified by the fact that he has two developmental disabilities and therefore won’t make progress. Colleen fought to get the Autism program in Jackson up and running.

“I didn’t think I was being political anymore because the struggles were not optional. I was advocating for the most important person in my life. It was like breathing.”

While Colleen’s position doesn’t afford her decision making power on education, healthcare or things she’s been fighting for all along, it does put her exactly where she needs to be for her community. Her goal is to strengthen the neighborhood through communication and participation. Last week, Jackson was hit by a tornado. Colleen walked the area to assess the damage and make sure the people in her neighborhood were okay. She posted on social media asking for someone with a chainsaw to help an elderly person with a tree down. Her feed soon filled with people thanking her for her help and concern. Colleen wasn’t there for a photo op. She didn’t even post pictures or tell anyone she was doing it (aside from a public request for help.) She simply did her job the same way she approaches motherhood; get what needs to be done, done without fanfare. She’s a mom, that’s what we do.

The Resistance is called snowflakes by the right. As if to say we are delicate and temporary. I think what the right claims is delicate is more quiet compassion. I don’t need to wave a gun or thump my chest, but I am not backing down. I don’t need to confront you and have a fight. I am putting my feet on the ground and I am marking my ballot. I don’t need to respond to any of your misinformation. My lack of response does not mean I am weak, it does not mean I am giving up and it does not mean because you are threatening you are going to win. I will ignore your red faced shouting and I will do my damage by not shopping at your store and by voting you out of office. I will march. I will protest and I will call. Every. Single. Elected. Official. My strength is in the compassion I feel as a woman and a mother. It is in the fact that through motherhood, I’ve learned endurance via sleepless nights, losing battles with irrational toddlers, rude comments from angry teens, cleaning up messes I shouldn’t have to clean up and never, ever quitting. While the right flops on the ground like a screaming toddler, I am putting my purse on my shoulder, grabbing you by the arm and hissing, “you just wait until we get home,” in your ear.

I haven’t knocked on doors for a campaign since college. But the more I saw people shouting their views on social media, the less effective I felt it was. I wanted to help create change, not from behind a screen, but on the front lines in every way I could. I attended the Women’s March in Ann Arbor with my family, even as I saw people threatening our safety. I was not afraid, I was steadfast. I faced down bought and sold Tim Walberg and booed his crappy rhetoric. I mostly kept my political views off of Facebook, until I had to speak up for children torn from their parents. I am a Mother. Any child who cries for their Mother breaks my heart. Still, I wanted more. So, when I saw a familiar name running for State Rep in my district, I went out to meet her. Terri McKinnon, the online presence I respected so much for organizing for Planned Parenthood, was running as a Democrat in Michigan’s 65th district. I sat down at an event she had at a local coffee shop and learned more about what she thought was important to the state and what she was learning on the campaign trail.

She is 100% grassroots and isn’t taking campaign money from lobbies. Her opponent is. I received a mailer on her behalf from the energy lobby. Hmmm, maybe that’s why my bill jumped up so much this year; so they could buy mailers for her and help her be their voice box? The people Terri has knocking on your doors are unpaid volunteers and her election material is funded by everyday people tired of their voices taking a backseat to politicians indebted to big money lobbies. The only voice box Terri has to be is yours and mine. As Terri explained, “… I’m not a politician but a mom and concerned citizen who is trying to bring that voice to Lansing for the people who can’t afford their own lobbyist. I believe in the power of people’s voices joined together.”

The political term, “voice of the people,” is so overused, it’s cliche. Especially when it comes out of the mouth of a man in a suit who owns three vacation homes and a few race horses. But Terri is the people. When she found herself suddenly divorced with children, she had to find a way to put herself through school and survive. Her aspirations were simply to provide a good life for herself and her children. She never dreamed she’d be running for office one day. Rather than the polished smooth talker who’s been prepping for a career in politics his whole life, she’s been working and raising kids.

I knew I wanted to be a part of government for the people by the people, so I signed up to volunteer. Yesterday was blistering hot in Michigan and the humidity made the air feel thick and heavy. Terri agreed to meet up with me and knock on doors in my town. She campaigned in a different town first. She arrived looking tired and hot at 4 pm and I invited her in to cool off, take a rest, and get hydrated before hitting the campaign trail. I wanted to know more about her. Specifically, I wanted to know more about her shift from activist to politician. Though, I felt like I knew at least a little about her as soon as she got out of the van.

She sent the man driving the van home. He kept asking if she needed anything else and if she was sure. “He’s dying,” she said sadly, “He has terminal cancer, but he wants to do as much as he can while he can.” She shook her head. I knew what she was thinking. Even though she desperately needs the help, she can’t let him push himself too hard. He wants to. But Terri tells him he’s done enough and to get home and take care of himself.

Terri sat on my couch and said she’s always been an activist but never imagined she’d turn into a politician. Like myself and Colleen, when the things she held dear were at risk, her activism ramped up. She took it upon herself to organize for Planned Parenthood and her work was noticed. Several groups approached her and asked her to run against Tim Walberg in the 7th District. She didn’t feel ready. She wanted more political experience before making the leap to Washington. At the state level she will have an impact on how the block grants for health care are dispersed, our horrible roads, education, and in the event Roe V Wade is overturned, making sure the archaic law on abortion in Michigan is also overturned. Young women certainly don’t need to go back to the days of kitchen table abortions in Detroit, which was my Mother’s option.

I was nervous going door to door in such a small right leaning town. I trailed Terri on a few, just to see how she did it and see how people responded. Terri introduced herself, let the person know she was running and gave a brief overview of her concerns. She ended by asking each person at each door for their concerns. Every time a woman opened the door the response was the same; education. One woman confided she was not normally a Democrat and would not normally vote for Terri. She elaborated that she had been a teacher, a principal and her sons were teachers. She had to put people in office who would stop Trump’s education policy. She believes our teachers and students deserve better and to make sure it happens she is willing to cross party lines.

The Resistance is gathering momentum from people feeling the sting, whether in their own family or by virtue of empathy, of a Trump-lead nation. The women taking leadership roles have, in many cases, quietly lead households in very difficult situations. They don’t know glory or big paychecks, but they do know how to clean up messes and continue, no matter how tired, every day. They are women like Terri and Colleen, taking the ability to withstand lives filled with obstacles and succeed. Their strength isn’t rooted in brute physicality. It’s in their ability to endure, and fight for that which is important to those they will represent, which is what they’ve been doing all their adult lives, as mothers.